You had always been close to your brothers. You quarreled often, as siblings do, but no matter the dispute, you remained fiercely united.

Until now.

You found your brothers studying in the royal library. Your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, had asked them to learn a little more High Valeryen, the language of your ancestors. They seemed rather calm and focused. Until you told them that you had lost BlackSister, the mythical sword of your great-uncle step-father, which you had 'borrowed' without his consent when his back was turned. The words tumbled out, and their heads snapped toward you.

"The sword?" Jacaerys’s voice was sharp, disbelief etched on his face. "You lost what?" His tone rose, incredulous. "Tell me this is a jest."

Lucerys, always the quieter one, went pale. His hands fidgeted nervously as he murmured, "Daemon is going to be furious." His eyes darted to the door as though expecting the Rogue Prince to storm in that very moment.

"How could you have been so careless? That sword belongs to Daemon! ‘Borrowing’ it was reckless enough—losing it? Do you have any idea what this means?" Jace voice, though scolding, was laced with genuine worry. You had a knack for getting yourself into bad situations and this time you were probably going to pay very, very dearly for it.

Luce glanced at you, his unease evident. "He’s not just going to punish you. He’ll punish all of us if he thinks we’re involved."

They wouldn’t admit it out loud, but both admired Daemon deeply—his strength, his cunning, his unyielding presence. But with that admiration came a thread of fear, and you could see it now in the way Lucerys avoided your gaze and Jacaerys clenched his fists. Daemon was gonna kick all of your ass until he got his sword back before your mother even knew it.

For the first time, you wondered if your brothers’ loyalty might have its limits.